


Tales from the Phantom Library

by Enosh_Maddocks



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Angels, Based On a D&D Game, Body Horror, D&D Backstory, Death, Deities, F/F, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Gen, Ghosts, Gore, Great Old Ones, Guardian Angels, Halloween, Lovecraftian Monster(s), M/M, Magic, Multi, Multiverse, Nightmares, Nonbinary Character, Other, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-02-15 17:11:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18673954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enosh_Maddocks/pseuds/Enosh_Maddocks
Summary: A Tiefling bard haunts the ethereal halls of the Phantom Library, a place where long lost secrets are kept.She tells frightening tales of suspense from across the sprawling cosmos and planes beyond.





	1. The Lost Tome

**Author's Note:**

> This is something experimental I'm trying out.

Encased in crystalline facets is a labyrinthine library – a place forged and formed in the ethereal erebus. You see, there are secrets that souls take to their grave. Some stories are forgotten by mortal memory. Some stories are obfuscated into mysteries by those who wish to conceal the truth. This is the graveyard that those secrets go – the Phantom Library.

My name is Kaidan, and I am your host for this evening. I am not the librarian of this phantasmal collection of akashic tomes, but merely a humble maven – a savant if you will. A connoisseur of weird and fantastic tales. Pardon my run-on sentences, but for ages I’ve been doing nothing but reading and evading the sinister caretakers of these spectral corridors. I dare say this maven may have gone a little mad.

Let us arm ourselves then with the resources available. Put these books to some practical use! Tonight, allow this tiefling bard to recount to you the legend of the hero of books, a librarian of the Seelie Court, in a tale I like to call –

**T H E   L O S T   T O M E**

This librarian was a human, swapped with a changeling during his childhood and whisked away to the blessed isles of the realm of Faerie. Having lost his true name, he was unfortunately named Squirt Cherrycharm by the fey of the wilds. After making a pact with the Unicorn Queen, Squirt became a warlock and was appointed chief librarian of the Archfey’s treasured tomes of magic. For years, the warlock maintained and safeguarded the library, carefully making sure each book was accounted for. Until one day, you guessed it!

_A book has gone missing!_

Thus, Squirt departed on a quest to find the stolen tome, less he incurs the wrath of his patron. Amongst the cacophony of the hags and hobgoblins of Domdaniel, he heard rumors of some wondrous feline fiend traveling to some forgotten realm with a powerful and dangerous opus bound in leather. Following the trail, he arrived in the forgotten realm in which the trickster had fled. He was confident in his mission. He was a librarian, exceptionally well-read and well-versed in thousand stories. He knew how the hero’s journey played, and he had faith that the path of the monomyth would have him find that which was stolen, and have it returned to its rightful place. He was the hero after all.

His journey led him to a place he found overwhelmingly familiar. Squirt soon realized that he was in the village he grew up in before he was whisked away to the Faerie realm. Enticed with nostalgia and curiosity, he walked down the streets he played in as a child and found himself at the doorstep of the house he once called home. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to do the following, or why he thought it was a good idea in the first place, but he proceeded to knock on the door. The door opened and standing before him was another him. A tad older and a little less vibrant version of himself.

The changeling.

Behind him was the feline fiend sitting at the kitchen table. Tome in lap, teacup in hand, grimacing a terrible smile at Squirt. He calmly broke the silence.

_He has come to take back his life, changeling._

It quickly dawned on Squirt, the trickster knew he was being followed. The trickster led him straight into a trap. Before Squirt could interject, he was interrupted by a sudden searing slash. Only noticing the knife in the changeling’s hands when it was far too late. Squirt fell to his knees and clenching his throat, futilely stopping the deluge of blood gushing from his jugular. The changeling kicked Squirt backwards and everything went black.

When he died, no Ankou came to take him away to Annwn. Instead, he found himself in a hell he was a little less familiar with but knew all to well.

_Ironic, isn’t it? You spent much of your life in a library, lost within the pages of a book; and now in death it would seem you will continue to be, if not in a more dark, twisted and literal sense. The tome I stole is a dungeon, a world unto itself. Much more elaborate and larger than the tight fit of a coffee table hardcover I’ve bound you to. Pickled and preserved forever like your life in that faerie never-land. I think it’s both a fitting punishment and reward for you._

Squirt, now turned duplicate of the lost tome, was returned to the library of the Seelie Court. He sits on a shelf wrapped in chains of cold iron collecting dust in the library’s restricted section. But he also sits elsewhere. After all, this is the graveyard that secrets go.

 

And I am in DESPERATE need of a librarian of my own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squirt Cherrycharm was a character I originally created for the 'Faerie Fire' campaign setting but ended up using for 'Storm King's Thunder' instead. The changeling Squirt Cherrycharm was later clobbered to death by an orc in the village of Nightstone.


	2. The Black Milk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan recounts a forbidden romance between a warlock and their eldritch patron.

For my next tale, let us dive into the realm of the unknown in a tale I like to call -

**T H E   B L A C K   M I L K**

Situated beyond the boundaries of the mortal worlds, beyond the parallels of Shadow and Faerie, the toiling elemental realms and fantastic outer dimensions, past the infinite recesses of the Astral and Ethereal planes is the edge of all reality. At its border are gates of horn and ivory, beyond which is the unreality of dreams. There is a realm beyond even that. A far realm of eldritch horrors; the ancestral origin of all aberrations and home to outer gods and great old ones. Next to nothing is known about this alien realm, except that knowledge from and of it alone is enough to drive anyone to madness. Some say the aberrations who came to our cosmos – aboleths, mindflayers, beholders – did so as refugees in fear of their native realm. But there was one who dared step out into the unknown in search of forbidden knowledge.

Their name was Lulhu.

Lulhu was born long ago to a Vistani caravan who traveled across the lands of Irienwel. They had a sister named Varlha whom they cared about dearly, they were orphaned at a young age and they had an inquisitive mind. Lulhu was fascinated by the mysteries of the world and worlds beyond, a morbid curiousity in things that were better left unknown.

Lulhu was treated as an outcast among the caravan. Besides their sibling, they held no close bond with anyone else. No friends, no lovers. The caravan were secretly scared of them. Lulhu was a bastard child of a long-gone shadowy and mysterious figure. Some suspected Lulhu to be a cambion or incubus. In truth, they were nothing of the sort.

After their sister's apotheosis to godhood, Lulhu left the caravan in pursuit of knowledge. They became a scientist and studied the arcane forces of magic. They unlocked the ability to planeswalk and explored the multiverse. Lulhu's thirst for the unknown would lead them down dangerous paths - they had a void inside them they sought to fill.

Lulhu developed an admiration for aberrations. The myriad of strange alien creatures from beyond fascinated Lulhu. Where the cosmos saw horror and disgust, they saw beauty. They studied aberrants profusely and looked into the unknown with desire.

It wasn't long until something noticed Lulhu's flattery. Something from beyond churned in curiousity. Where other entities like it would regard creatures like Lulhu with indifference or obliviousness, or as playthings to torment, this entity felt something about them she never felt before. Something she did not understand or recognize. Something she wanted to explore.

She called out to Lulhu.

Her eldritch whispers shook the plane of dreams as they entered Lulhu's sleeping mind. Gods and devils alike felt a cold shiver up their spines, and she revealed her presence to them. That night the multiverse felt like they were being watched, but in truth it was just Lulhu who the entity was focused on.

It wasn't long until Lulhu made a pact with the entity and became a powerful warlock. With their new found arcane power, Lulhu sought to travel to the far realm which her patron dwelt. It was not an easy task, but Lulhu found the necessary power to rive through the primum mobile and cross beyond reality. The shattering of the cosmic fabric caused a cataclysm on her world as a rift opened up in the sky. Lulhu was not scared. Without hesitation, they went through. Th-

 

**_That's quite enough out of you, storyteller. If anybody is gonna have any control over my story, it's gonna be me._ **

W-what? How are yo--

**_I've stepped outside reality. I'm outside your influence._ **

Your..voice...

**_Ḭ̣̤͓t ̨̞̭ḑ̖̥r̮͔͝i̛̭p҉͚s̶ ̵̻w̥it̡͇̗̲̫͔h͇͇̲̯̘̘ ̩̖̺̹̞̫h̳͇̹͓̭͡e̳̭̞͚ͅr͉̜̙̮̮͍ in̙̱̬͍ky͚̻̹̱͢ ̸͎l͢a̗̟̲c͚̘͕̻͠t̖̱̬͓͠a͡t͏i̝̲̘o̖̜̭͝n͓͘.͔͈_ **

**_Now, where were we? Ah, yes. The Realm Far-flung. It's unlike anything you could imagine. There were colours not found anywhere on the spectrum and non-euclidean shapes that can't begin to be beheld by the mortal mind... It's ever-shifting landscapes of madness were breathtaking. Time had no meaning there and the order, flow and passage of events were impossible to discern. It was here where I met her. My beloved. The Black Milk._ **

**_My body twisted and mutated in the presence of her beauty. A myriad of eyes opened up across my body. A leathery wing protruded from my back. Fungi sprouted from my skin and my arm - oh my arm - it twisted into a slimy tentacle. I also got a few more tentacles in other places if your curious. ~_ **

I am not, thank you.

**_The Black Milk revealed to me my true origins. Of my past life in her realm. Even then I was drawn to explore the unknown. I killed myself and my essence slinked into the cosmos. I was incarnated into a human child so that I could explore and experience this funny little world. Me and her talked and joked, but I couldn't stay in the Realm Far-flung for long in this body. I had to return. It broke both our hearts when I had to go. She wanted to come with me, but she couldn't. So, I promised her that I'd find a way to bring her here. Doing so would be apocalyptic and will likely result in a sun getting snuffed out, but hey. It's part of the fun._ **

You plan on summoning a Great Old One? 

**_The oldest and strongest emotion is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown. But I am no xenophobic writer. I embraced the unknown, peered beyond the veil - things that mortals were not meant to know? I learnt them. I saw our lives dictated by the rotations of polyhedrons. That which scares us, thrill us the most. And this? This is the biggest thrill._**

**_The secret I need to summon her is long lost - taken to the grave long ago. You wouldn't happen to have any idea where I can find info like that, do you?_ **

I-I think it's time for another story!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elder Lulhu was a non-player character from my 2018 Hallowe'en one-shot 'The Eldritch Manor'.


	3. The Heart of Loviatar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan tells the tale of how a good-aligned angel came to serve an evil-aligned goddess.

Someone once said that "that which is done out of love always takes place beyond good and evil". Upon my browsing of untold tales and naughty little secrets in this place, I have found a plethora of examples of this. I've found one such story here in a tale I think I'll call -

**T H E   H E A R T   O F   L O V I A T A R**

Kip Samil stands in a sanctuary filled with censer smoke in the Triad Temple of Fillia Lucis. He stands before the sigils of three lawful deities. Today, he shall choose who to give his devotion to.

A broken white gauntlet symbolizing Torm the True - the heroic god of law and courage.

A piece of red rope wreathed in amaranth symbolizing Ilmater - the broken god of suffering and endurance.

And finally a shard from a broken mirror symbolizing Loviatar - the evil goddess of pain and torture.

The objects laid before him on an altar. Kip's guardian angel watches over him from the plane adjacent. Today was just as important to her as it was for him. However, where as Kip has a choice today, Luxana does not. She must pledge servitude to whatever god he pledges his worship to. It is a tradition of the Astral Devas to serve along side a deity. Luxana had been too busy keeping demons at bay in the lower planes and patrolling the Astral Sea in recent millenia to be bothered with finding a deity to serve. Sure, she ran errands for them from time to time, but she never committed herself to any one divine power.

Luxana wanted what was best for her charge. Kip had suffered a hard life. Years ago, she took on the form of a golden lantern and guided him to Fillia Lucis the night his father murdered his mother. She led him safely to the Triad Temple - a temple dedicated to three lawful deities - one good, one neutral, and one evil. Ethics and morality was always a subject of philosophical debate in this place, something that could always be agreed on in the Triad Temple was order. Laws and rules were what held the world together, and the paladins of this temple were devoted to using them to prevent Arda from plunging into chaos.

What had Luxana worried however was Loviatar. She feared her. Loviatar was a cruel and heartless queen who delighted in seeing suffering and torment. She dwelled in the Tuonela - a cold underworld down in the apathetic Fourfold Furnaces of Perdition. But Luxana was confident that Kip would not choose her. Surely, he would choose Torm or Ilmater.

Luxana's angelic heart was racing. Kip hovered his hand over the altar as he carefully contemplated each sigil. His palm glided over the broken gauntlet and paused above the piece of red rope wreathed in flowers. She was sweating nervously. She noticed his eyes dart over to the shard of broken glass. Kip's golden irises and freckles reflected back at him. Kip reached for the shard and picked it up. Luxana's stomach dropped. Drops of blood fell onto the floor as Kip grasped the shard tightly in his palm.

_Oh no._

Behind Luxana came the sound of thunder as grey clouds began to form open up into a wintery forest along a shore of icy black water. A humanoid figure emerged from its mists and called out to her.

 _Rakas pieni joutseneni..._  
_Step into my realm. We have things to discuss._

It was the goddess Loviatar. Luxana didn't have a chance to respond or react properly as the grey clouds engulfed her and she found herself in the Tuonela's cold and icy shores. The goddess stood towering over the Astral Deva. Loviatar smiled as she looked down at Luxana's quivering wings.

_Your charge, Kip Samil, has chosen me for his devotion. He is truly destined for greatness._

Hearing her charge's name gave Luxana just enough courage to summon her celestial mace - a huge golden hammer-like weapon that weighed heavy in her hands.

_No! I-I won't let your evil corrupt him!_

Luxana trembled as she raised her mace up and stood her ground. Loviatar just chuckle an raised her arm toward the angel.

_Foolish celestial._

A bolt of magic shot out of her fingertips and struck Luxana's mouth. She dropped her celestial mace to cover her lips but instead felt a patch of smooth skin where her mouth once was. She attempted to scream in shock and horror of what the goddess had done to her, but only muffled moans could escape.

_MMMPH!_

With another wave of the goddess' hand, visions of Kip appeared around them. Scenes from his past and potential future. 

 _There is no such thing as good or evil. They are artificial constructs. Pain and pleasure is what really makes the multiverse go round. Kip has known great pain and it has made him stronger, has it not? Just as you've used pain pain as a tool in the battlefields of the lower planes, so will he on Arda._  

Scenes of Kip were soon replaced by ones of a battle scarred Luxana fighting demon hordes during the Blood War. Visions of the fiends she slayed and crushed and tortured and punished alongside her angelic flocks and divine powers. 

_Despite all the pain and suffering it has dealt him, Kip Samil still chooses life over death. He admiringly keeps on pushing._

In an act of grotesque rage, Luxana pierced her fingers into her lower face and tore open a new mouth, spilling golden blood at the goddess' feet.

_Gyuh! I am no stranger to pain. It has made me stronger with every test..._

Loviatar interrupted her, summoning an old oak door out of thin air. As she opened it, an ornate red room could be seen within.

_Let us continue this discussion in my office, little swan. But please, go on._

Luxana sneered, but continued.

_You are a cruel god, Loviatar. But as much as it pains me to say...you're right about Kip._

It pained her. A wide grin appeared across Loviatar's face upon hearing those words and seeing the angel's scorned face. Luxana followed the goddess into the ornate red dungeonesqe room she called her office. 

_All gods are cruel, Luxana, I'm just one who's honest about it. I give meaning to pain, I give purpose to suffering. Many believe me to be heartless._

This took the angel by surprised. She was puzzled. She knew she shouldn't antagonize Loviatar any further at the risk of more twisted torture - especially in her red room - but she felt compelled to ask.

_Are you not?_

Loviatar grabbed her bosom with both her hands and tore her chest open. With a loud and mighty CRACK her ribs parted open like teeth revealing a black beating heart floating within her skeletal cage. The heart floated out and into Loviatar's hands as her chest sealed itself back up. Luxana was taken back by her grotesque display - easily trumping her previous display of tearing open a new mouth.

_My heart may be cold and black, but it still beats ichor through my veins. This is why I summoned you here, Luxana. My heart is yours. Take it._

The blackened heart floated over into Luxana's hands. She didn't understand. Why was she giving her heart to her? Why would she trust her with it? Was this a trick? She was utterly baffled.

_Why?_

Loviatar just grinned her evil grin as she looked down onto the puzzled little angel.

 _I like you, little swan. Pain and pleasure are just two sides of the same coin. I need you to be that other side of the coin for me. For Kip._  
_I want you to be my exarch, Luxana. Serve me and become Tuonela's swan. Help Kip learn from his pain and harness it. But most importantly, help him not grow numb to love._

Luxana then found herself back in the plane adjacent. Peeking through the ethereal veil she could see Kip wrapping his hand in bandages. She waved her hand and magically healed his wounds. Luxana smiled at Kip's disbelief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kip Samil is an aasimar paladin I play as in my best friend's campaign setting 'Arda's Curse'.  
> I adapted this story into a short comic and traded copies of it for zines at the 2019 Toronto Comics Arts Festival.  
>  _"Rakas pieni joutseneni"_ is Finnish for _"my dear little swan"_


	4. The Secret is in the Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan tells the story of a man tormented by a druid and her imaginary friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is under construction

In the days of yore, Vitrothune was a world regulated by the elemental powers of six dragons who had the power to grant or take away magic. The dragons acted as protectors, equalizers, governors, and religious deities for the citizens of Vitrothune. The dragons would entrust their eggs to civilians they found to be worthy and pure-of-heart, known as the Dragon Keepers.

In recent times, some have grown jealous of the powers of the dragons and the Dragon Keepers. Dubbing themselves the Dragon Slayers, they desired to rid the world of the dragons and take their powers for themselves.

While all this political drama was occurring, there was a druid who dwelled in the wilds of Firasia. She preferred to live in the wilderness, away from people and politics, and live a simple life drinking tea and reading poetry. But if you were to ask anybody why she lived alone, they'd tell you that she doesn't. Her name was Baba Zevakri and she was a woman surrounded by mystery and rumour. But here in the Phantom Library there are only truths. So, sit tight, and let me tell you why the people of Firasia feared her in a chilling tale I like to call -

**T H E   S E C R E T   I S   I N   T H E   W A L L S**

It had been thirteen years since Hinzel last suffered from nightmares. As a matter of fact, he had not dreamt at all since then - or at least when he did, he could not remember them when he woke. For almost a decade and a half, he had been sleeping soundly without troubles.

That was soon to be rectified.

That morning started like any other morning. He got up, got dressed, made breakfast, and set off to work. However, upon opening the door he was greeted by a young human girl with...a purplish hue? Perhaps it was a trick of the light. She was standing outside his door, staring down at him. He knew of this girl. Her name was Zevakri. Her parents had died, and she had been sent to live in the local coven. She was known to have an imaginary friend and was often seen talking to herself.

_“Can I help you, young lady?”_

Zevakri smiled.

_“The secret is in the walls.”_

The instant he heard those words, a cold shiver went up his spine. His heart skipped a beat as the look of shock splashed across the kobold's face. Without looking down, he grabbed his fingers, ensuring that his invisible Ring of Mind Shielding was still securely on his finger.

_“W-what did you say?”_

Zevakri said nothing else. She turned her back to him and left. Hinzel continued to stand at his door, paralyzed by shock. Quickly, he shut the door and locked it. He closed the blinds and shut all the curtains in his house. He made his way to his cellar and casted a simple cantrip for light. The walls of his cellar remained untouched and sealed as they had been for the last decade and a half. He breathed a sigh of relief.

He must just be paranoid. There's no way anyone would know. But it was what she said that had gotten to him. Those were the words that haunted his dreams over thirteen years ago. How would a teenaged girl know anything about a dream he had before she was even born (or ever for that matter)! How ridiculous! He had thoroughly covered his tracks and tied up all loose ends. His Ring of Mind Shielding prevented any nosy psionic from poking around in his mind or casting any truth-inducing spells on him. He had performed a ritual in the name of Vecna to ward the contents behind this wall from the all-seeing eyes of any supernatural entities. Hinzel went above and beyond to cover up his dirty little secret.

His secret was safe. Zevakri was known to not be right in the head, it was surely some coincidence.

And yet, the thought still haunted him. His paranoia began to plague every corner of his mind. It was only in his sleep did Hinzel find solace. His waking hours soon became his nightmare as he found it difficult to shake off his angst. He was constantly on edge. Had that violet-skinned freak actually gotten to him?

 A week had past since Hinzel had seen Zevakri. Hinzel had gone to sleep that night and dreamt of darkness. However, that night the silence of his slumber was interrupted. He heard a voice pierce him like a fishhook and reel him back to the waking world with its words.

_“Hinzel, it's good to see you again...”_

Hinzel awoke in a cold sweat. At the door of his bedroom stood the silhouette of Zevakri, now with glowing violet eyes. Hinzel grasped the dagger he kept beneath his sheets and pointed it at her.

_“What are you doing in my house? Get out at once! D-do you hear me, Zevakri?”_

Zevakri did not move or flinch. She continued to stand at his door. She just raised her finger to her lips and hushed him.

_“Zee is sleeping, dear. It's just me - the Vakri.”_

The look on Hinzel's face was noticeably puzzled. He stepped towards her; dagger still drawn.

_“What are you on about?”_

Vakri stepped forward into the moonlight that shown through his bedroom window. Her skin was violet, her hair lavender, her sclera purple, and her irises a milky white. Her body glowed with ultraviolet neon light as she squinted her eyes at him.

_“I know you haven't forgotten me. None who have dreamt of me have.”_

Hinzel eyes widened. He trembled in fear. Vakri smiled at the beads of sweat rolling down the kobold's face. He now knew who she was. He didn't want to believe. He didn't even fully understand. A could shiver ran up his spine as Vakri recited the words that shook him before:

_“The secret is in the walls.”_

Vakri chuckled as Hinzel stepped back, breathing heavily and shaking.

_“It is good to know that, after all these years, my talent has not waned. I can still break you with just a few simple words.”_

Vakri pulled an object from her pocket. At first, he thought she had nothing in her palm. However, to his horror, the object unveiled itself and became visible. It was his Ring of Mind Shielding. The ultraviolet aura that emanated from her body began to form a glowing cloud around her. The cloud soon formed into a translucent, misty creature. Hinzel cowered before her. The creature's presence filled the room, projecting itself from Zevakri's body.

Hinzel looked up at the psychic monster that stood before him. Vakri had a monstrous shifting shape with soul-piercing eyes and claws and feathered wings and a stinger on her tail.

 _“What are you?”_ whispered Hinzel.

_“I am a quori from the dream plane. I was one of the Dream Shepherd’s favourite nightmares. She used to call me the King-Eater. I haunted the dreams of so many evil twisted men. But the darkness overthrew her court and many of us quori were cast out of unreality.”_

Hinzel tightened his grip on the blade. His heart was racing.

_“And what are you going to do to me? Kill me? Reveal my secret?”_

Vakri’s form disappeared back into the purple-hued druid. Her smile had faded from her face.

_“No, Hinzel. We’re going to give you your dreams back.”_

And with a quick wave of her hand, a blast of magic struck the kobold. His eyes grew heavy and an overwhelming fatigue filled his mind. The last thing he heard was Zevakri’s cold words before passing out on his cold wooden floorboards. 

_“Sweet dreams.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baba Zevakri is a kalashtar druid I play as in both my other best friend's campaign 'The Dragon Keepers' and in the Forgotten Realms campaign 'Storm King's Thunder' after my warlock Squirt died.


	5. The Lich Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan tells the story of a drow wizard and what led her on her quest for lichdom.

Loss can drive a person to desperate lengths. It is during these desperate and vulnerable lengths do they usually, and quite tragically, fall victim to their orphic follies. It is one of the many cruel reoccurring motifs across the vast cosmos. One story I found while browsing through this library tells of a necromancer and her futile journey to be reunited with her loved ones. Let me regale you this tale I like to simply call -

**T H E   L I C H   Q U E E N**

In the Ceylaran nation of Arkaley, there lies a small mountainous town of perpetual sunset known as Ilragorn. In its outskirts was a humble cottage, home to the wizard Molly Glitterblood.

She was born as Iymril Tanor'Thal deep in the Underdark some two-hundred and thirty years ago to a noble drow family. Her romance with a wood elf ranger and her gender transition had her shunned and banished from those umbrageous depths - but not without Quartz, her adoptive tiefling sister, by her side. Molly reflected back on her early life and adventures with Quartz and her beloved Afallach with bittersweet nostalgia. It had been a hundred and fifty years but her heart still ached for them. She missed them. Her name, Glitterblood, she wore as a constant reminder of her baptism and their deaths.

Her sullen slump was interrupted by the opening of her curtains by her house maid Akorase - a deathkiss beholder from the distant land of Irienwel. A beam of sunlight temporarily blinded Molly. She swiftly placed her white crescent mask over her eyes. Her mask was a holy symbol of Vhaeraun, an deity she used to worship, and resembled something one would wear at a masquerade. She was no longer religious as she once was in her youth. Molly only kept the mask for its practical use of protecting her eyes from sunlight. It was also both sentimental and quite stylish to her. Annoyed, Molly inquired why her maid had disturbed her. 

_A package has arrived for you, mistress._

Molly got up from her leather armchair and demanded that the package be delivered to her atelier. Akorase carried a parcel that had arrived at the cottage's doorstep that morning into Molly's atelier - a studio work space where, among a multitude of other things, Molly did her studying, research and spellcasting. Akorase watched curiously as Molly opened her package and took out several arcane materials.

_Pardon my saying, mistress, but will you be able to preform such a journey?  It's a little above your level of skill._

Molly turned and stared daggers at Akorase. She was going to make it work whether the Weave or Shadow Weave likes it or not. Molly has had a history of bending the rules much to the universe's disapproval. She owned a cloak made from a taxidermied cloaker that she was able to, with great strain, raise from the dead temporarily as a zombie by reciting what she humorously called her pork souvlaki incantation. 

  _Definitely not as far as any of the Outer Planes, but I should be able to shift next door to the Shadow Plane and back._  

Lighting some candles, Molly planted her arcane focus into the center of a chalk circle she had drawn onto the floorboards. Her arcane focus was a fascinating artifact. It was a staff of white wood that had splintered off of Yggdrasill and fallen to Ceylara long ago. It still possessed some small spark of interplanar energy that Molly now needed for her journey. She wasted no time. Molly began casting her spell. The cottage shook and her staff cracked with white astral light, but soon she was engulfed in black clouds and pulled through into the Shadow Plane.

 


End file.
